


once in a lifetime

by izumidos



Series: Romance for Dummies [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Developing Relationship, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Humor, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-05 21:12:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18374183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izumidos/pseuds/izumidos
Summary: Being a criminal has its downsides. One of it is missing out on the dating scene, because really, it's usually not normal to date a criminal. And now Ryan's met someone who's not exactly normal, is totally willing to date him, and is probably way out of his league.





	once in a lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> the technical sequel to 'having the time of our lives'. it's officially a series now, fellas!! you don't have to exactly read the first fic to get what's going on, but i mean. why not?
> 
> also for background, romance montage music – listen to [this song!](https://youtu.be/X4YK-DEkvcw)

**(one.)**

 

“Do you even have any idea what you’re doing?”  
  
Geoff poses the question with a grimace. He leans against the doorway as he watches Ryan fiddle with his outfit, hands unable to stop fidgeting. Usually more confident, it’s odd for Geoff to see someone like Ryan act _nervous_ – and he’s not even facing a chance of death.  
  
Geoff revises his question: “Hell, have you actually ever been on a date?” He’s beginning to suspect a certain answer when Ryan switches out his jacket a third time.  
  
“Absolutely not,” Ryan answers, and he can feel the exasperation radiating from his boss. Ryan ignores it like usual. “I’ve been too busy living the criminal life to date someone–”  
  
Geoff opens his mouth.  
  
“–and fucking someone is different. One-night stands aren’t relationships.”  
  
Geoff closes his mouth. Fair point.  
  
Despite it, a frown plays on his lips at this odd situation he’s been pushed into. What is he supposed to do anyway? He’s not exactly qualified to give advice on dating – only god knows how he landed Jack – but he’s not soulless enough to be a passive bystander. He doesn’t want to watch Ryan come home with his tail tucked behind his legs when the date goes horribly wrong.  
  
Besides it being a sad sight, Geoff isn’t ready to be annihilated by a broken-hearted Vagabond.  
  
“So...are you just winging this dating scenario? Because I did that before, and it’s a dumb as dicks idea.” Geoff takes care not to mention that he _still_ wings dating, nevermind that he and Jack have been together for a long time now.  
  
Ryan snorts, eyeing Geoff from the reflection of the mirror. “I’m not you, boss. I actually know to research stuff when it’s important,” Ryan looks at himself in the mirror with a more serious gaze, “and this date is important."  
  
Geoff whistles. For the most part, Ryan is a laid back man, even managing to be relaxed when serious. This time, Geoff can see the intense determination in Ryan’s eyes and the lack of humor in his conviction – his question of how important it is to Ryan is easily answered.  
  
“Oh boy, okay. This is a real big deal then,” he mutters. “You, uh, need anything from me before you go off on your date?” Geoff winces at how awkward he sounds, but he’s trying, dammit. As odd as it is, he wants to support the guy’s dip into dating. “Advice? Opinions? Maybe even suggestions?”  
  
Ryan doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes are unerringly focused on his jacket, and he frowns at himself in the mirror: “Does this outfit make me look like a criminal?”  
  
(Of all the questions to ask of Geoff when he’s being so _fucking generous–_ )  
  
“Ryan, buddy. You’re wearing your Vagabond outfit.”  


* * *

  
  
He’s _not_ ready for this at all.  
  
Ryan lingers at a wooden, apartment door with clammy hands. One stays hidden behind him with a small bouquet of flowers, but the other floats in the air as he debates when to knock. In his pocket is the reminder that he’s arrived five minutes early from their planned meeting time, as well as three internet tabs that have dating advice – all varying degrees of helpfulness.  
  
He tugs at the collar of his light jacket, changing out his Vagabond jacket after Geoff’s tired sigh. He supposes the other’s right that it’d bring too much attention on him on his date. Even so, he can feel how uncomfortable he is without the comforting weight of his jacket.  
  
It takes another moment of shifting his weight around and talking himself up to push himself forward.  
  
His knuckles meet the wood three times, knocking at a hopefully okay volume. He’s awfully anxious despite wanting this badly, and his heart is pounding in his chest, so close to jumping out. It only worsens when he hears the faint _‘I’m coming! Give me a sec!’_ and Ryan wonders if he’s started sweating already.  
  
“Ryan, you’re early!”  
  
Gavin’s face pops out from behind the door, and his cheeks are flushed red. A dopey grin plays on his lips as it accompanies the giddy shine in his eyes. His excitement is contagious, and already, Ryan can feel his nerves start to settle a bit.  
  
“I didn’t want to be late or keep you waiting, so I arrived earlier to be sure,” Ryan confesses. He gives a small smile, hoping he doesn’t come off as weird. “Oh! I, uh, got you some flowers too. I read that people like flowers, and I hope that you’re not allergic to them?”  
  
Ryan reveals the item he had picked up half an hour ago, slipping it from behind his back. He hears the little gasp as he presents it to Gavin, and he ducks his head in delighted embarrassment when Gavin takes it with a happy croon. Ryan hazards a glance up, his breath stolen away at Gavin cradling the gift; his eyes radiate fondness.  
  
“Oh, Ryan, this gift is absolutely top! I can’t believe you got me something like this!” Gavin is bubbly, filled to the brim with affection for the awkward criminal. His thumb brushes a carnation's petal, its orange shade bright beneath tanned skin.  
  
“I didn’t know your favorites, so I got you the prettiest bouquet I saw. Reminded me of you, ‘cus you’re, y’know, very pretty. Er...”  
  
Ryan trails off with a sheepish grin. His face is flushed with his words absolutely fucked up, but he’s genuine in all that he’s saying. He figures that Gavin can figure out what he’s saying, and he’s rewarded with a tight hug. His mind reels when he feels another reward in the form of a soft kiss on his cheek.  
  
“You’re lovely, Ryan. The loveliest of them all,” Gavin crows. “Here, let me put these in some water, so they won’t die, and we can head off!”  
  
Ryan doesn’t say anything as Gavin returns inside his apartment. He stays still in his spot, a hand on the spot where Gavin’s lips had met his cheek sweetly; he grins like an idiot.  


* * *

  
  
“Absolutely not, I respect gravity too much.”  
  
“But Ryan, it’d be a sick party trick, and even for your job, you could terrify blokes so easily. Plus you’re getting a superpower _and_ a million dollars! You don’t lose out at all!”  
  
"I'm scary enough on my own," Ryan frowns. He had worked hard for his reputation. "I already get millions from heisting, and I'm not for parties anyway."  
  
Gavin rolls his eyes. He chatters on about the hypothetical situation, trying to convince Ryan how good anti-gravity powers really are. His hands are moving everywhere in wide gestures, and he’s too lost in the conversation to take much notice of it. It takes a wine glass almost tipping over for Ryan to finally stop Gavin’s movements.  
  
“Gav, careful, we don’t want to make a mess here,” Ryan chides. He takes one of Gavin’s hands into his own, gives it a gentle squeeze that makes Gavin pause before giggling. It catches Ryan’s attention, and he tugs his hand away, flustered and changing the topic.  “Your gravity question isn’t going to help you out with red wine stains on the white tablecloth.”  
  
“Well, not _this_ specific one. I have tons more, like–”  
  
“Just eat your food, before I eat it all for you. I mean, I'm always hungry, and I do love steak a lot…”  
  
“Ryan, no!” Gavin picks up his fork to eat a cut of his steak before Ryan can. He sticks his tongue out at Ryan while his cheek is puffed with the food. He earns an eye roll from Ryan, and another order of _‘eat’_ , delivered with a huff. “I am eating, but I like talking to you a lot too, you twit.”  
  
“I do too, but food is always the first priority. Even before you, Gav,” Ryan retorts to Gavin’s affronted squeak. “Hey, look, I’m paying for this date! I’m going to eat my money’s worth and yours too, soon enough!”  
  
Gavin huffs, but he does continue eating again, much to Ryan’s smug glee. They devolve into a quiet dinner, but it’s no less comfortable than the from before; it feels nice that this simple dinner date is going well.  
  
From the mess that he was at the start, Ryan feels more like himself now. He’s still unsure whenever he does certain things – such as grabbing Gavin’s hand like an idiot who didn’t ask – but he feels more comfortable. He’s not as worried about fucking this whole thing up when he’s shown Gavin how much of a mess he is in five different ways already. And Gavin is still here, taking it in stride with a laugh.  
  
It’s easy to lose himself in the conversation, taken in by Gavin’s playfulness and curiosity so completely. The banter is quick and bright, tidbits of personal information coming out naturally, and Ryan’s 90% sure that Gavin is into him as much as Ryan is into Gavin.  
  
It’s a good feeling, and Ryan really did work himself up over nothing.  
  
“Y’know, I already miss the shy Ryan at my doorstep,” Gavin pipes up after a few minutes of contented eating. “You were bloody adorable, lookin’ a lil’ lost and embarrassed. It was like I was in secondary school again, and you were trying to ask me out to the dance.”  
  
“Hey, no, I wasn’t lost, alright? I’ll give you half-credit on embarrassed though, because it was more like...flustered. I didn’t know what to expect on a date with you!” He defends.  
  
Gavin’s voice lowers, amusement seeping in, “The feared Vagabond gets so flustered going on a date. I saw you robbing the bank so confidently, and walking up to me in the coffee place with that pick-up line? And then– you know!” He explodes into a amused laughter, eyes shut as his smile stretches his cheeks.  
  
“Shut up,” Ryan retorts with no heat at all, besides the ones present on his cheeks. He’s too distracted by the sight of Gavin being so carefree to put much thought in his defense. He suppresses the fond sigh that threatens to escape. “I just...didn’t know what to expect on a date in general. This is the first date I’ve ever been on.”  
  
Ryan doesn’t miss how Gavin sobers up a bit after his confession. There’s still a wide smile playing on his pink lips – and oh, god, his heart is _racing_ – but it’s less at Ryan’s expense. It’s turned soft and gentle, and Ryan swears this man could be the death of him when he feels Gavin hold his hand.  
  
“I guess being a criminal makes it awful horrible to get on the dating scene. You can’t really put down your career in a dating profile, can you? Even if you do make good money," Gavin teases. He squeezes Ryan’s hand, reminiscent of the scene minutes before. “I’m lucky that I get to be your first date ever, and hopefully, I’m lucky enough to have more of your firsts. Like maybe your first, second date?”  
  
Ryan doesn’t even try to stifle his grin and nods excitedly.  
  
(And the articles open on his phone remain unused. He didn't need them after all.)  


 

 

 

**(two.)**

  
“You’re wearing your riding leathers today. You taking your date out on your motorcycle this time?”  
  
Geoff finds himself watching Ryan get ready for his date again, this time with less worry. From what he’s been hearing from Ryan’s recountings and seeing Ryan’s frequent excursions now, the whole courting thing must be going well. It’s nice to know that Ryan’s been successful in his first dating endeavor so far.  
  
Ryan nods. “He saw a clip of me making an escape from a heist on a motorcycle,” he pauses as he sifts through his closet, “Said he wants to ride a bike with me. It turns out he likes bikes more than cars, so I’m showing him my Shotaro.”  
  
He pulls out a hanger with another leather jacket hanging from it. Scanning it for a second, Ryan deems it small enough for it to fit Gavin; it’d still be a little big considering Ryan’s size, but it’s an older jacket from a year or two ago. It’s his best bet, at this point, and it _does_ match his current riding leathers – almost like a set.  
  
The implication sends his heart into an awful frenzy of fluttering.  
  
“Y’know, you never told me how you met your guy. It happened so suddenly that you started going out on dates,” Geoff points out. He’s curious to know, especially since Ryan let slip that his date _knew_ Ryan’s career as a criminal. He’s both curious and concerned for Ryan and crew if the date ended up being a traitor.  
  
Ryan shrugs, but a red tint starts to swarm his face. He sets the jacket in a nearby backpack that he slings on, reminding himself to bring an extra helmet from the garage. He shifts awkwardly as he ponders about telling the truth.  
  
“Remember the bank heist at Pacific Standard, about two months ago?” He murmurs. “He was, uh, one of the civilians there. I noticed him after we made eye contact, but I realized that he wasn’t scared. Looked more inconvenienced really.”  
  
“So, how did that turn into you scoring some dick?”  
  
Ryan scowls, leveling Geoff with a narrowed look at the crude words; there’s been nothing like that mentioned in their dates. Ryan’s busy trying to figure out romance first anyway with Gavin.  
  
“We made eye contact, and I noticed that he was cute. I winked at him, and the guy didn’t hate it, so I kept doing it, and then,” Ryan pauses, cheeks turning a brighter red. “I blew a kiss at him, tracked him down to a coffee shop that same week, and, uh, it spiralled into this.”  
  
Silence reigns completely over his room, and Ryan doesn’t dare look up. His decision is only proving to be right after Geoff finally busts out laughing after their silence. He cackles and howls so loudly that it echoes in their penthouse.  
  
“What kinda fuckin’ story is that, Haywood?"  
  
“It's mine, now shut up,” Ryan grumbles with no heat. He feels a small smile tug at his lips from Geoff’s amusement. It’s an approval of its own kind.  


* * *

  
  
There’s little to no nervousness in Ryan this time when he sees Gavin waiting by the curb of his apartment building.  
  
After the first handful of dates, he’s figured out how to soothe his nerves and taken to reminding himself the most important thing: they were both into each other. After all, if the attraction and the interest hadn’t been mutual, they wouldn’t be here still, would they?  
  
(Unless it’s a long con from Gavin, but Ryan knows him enough – Gavin is impulsive and spontaneous, absolutely horrible at anything pre-planned. Besides, doubting Gavin’s genuinity would only lead to a quick spiral into anxiousness and self-doubt, and Ryan could do that in his own time.)  
  
“You looked so handsome riding in on that bike, Ry,” Gavin compliments, first thing. His lips pull into a cheeky grin, and he moves forward to press a greeting kiss on Ryan’s cheek after tugging his helmet off. “Does this mean I get to ride with you, like how you did in that one clip?”  
  
Ryan snorts, cutting the engine off and getting off the seat. He takes the helmet from Gavin to set on his seat before he curls his arm around Gavin’s waist to hold him close. He waves vaguely in his backpack’s direction. “I mean, I did bring an extra jacket and helmet for someone here. And I knew I was gonna get pestered ‘bout it if I didn’t do it, so…”  
  
It’s with a happy chirp of a noise that Gavin tears away from Ryan’s hold, hands already reaching for the backpack. Ryan rolls his eyes, muttering _‘impatient’_ below his breath, but he shrugs it off anyway and reaches for the items inside.  
  
“First thing, helmet. Obvious thing to have, or else you’ll have a nasty time if we crash. I don’t want you to lose any more brain cells that you’ve lost already.”  
  
“Oi!”  
  
“Kidding,” Ryan amends, a cough following afterwards. It earns him a gentle shove to his side, but it moves him not at all, as he places the helmet next to his own.  
  
But his movements stutter here, eyes catching the jacket and reminding him of his thoughts from before. He wonders if Gavin will realize the choice behind the jacket, will realize how much Ryan likes him that he’s giving the man a piece of himself. A piece of himself that he's never let anyone else have.  
  
Would he feel the same frenzy in his chest?  
  
“Ry? You okay?”  
  
Ryan startles, shaking his head to clear his confusion. “Sorry, Gav, I’m fine. Just got lost in my thoughts, but here, uh, I have riding leathers too." Ryan manages to fumble his words out as he tugs the leather jacket out of his bag. He sets the bag down to show off the jacket to Gavin, hands trembling slightly; a familiar nervousness settles in. “They are actually meant to protect. I don’t just wear my Vagabond jacket to make a statement.”  
  
No sound passes between them for a beat, and Ryan looks around awkwardly to avoid Gavin’s eyes. The jacket is still in his hands, Gavin is silent, and Ryan wonders if Gavin’s already caught the meaning – how dumb of him to assume that it wasn’t obvious already to the man, if it was to Ryan.  
  
How dumb of Ryan to believe that Gavin would feel the same about the jacket; this isn’t Gavin’ first time with romance, and he wouldn’t fall as hard and as quick as Ryan has.  
  
He starts to take the jacket back, a promise of grabbing a different one sitting on his tongue. But quicker than Ryan can pull away, Gavin’s hand darts out to gingerly grip Ryan’s wrist. It's a small, soft grip that has Ryan pausing to look back at Gavin with wide eyes.  
  
“Sorry, Ry, I didn’t want you to...go,” Gavin murmurs sheepishly. He drops his grip from Ryan’s wrist, moving to run a gentle hand over the soft leather of the jacket. “I didn’t know how to react since it looked like it was yours, yeah?”  
  
Ryan nods. Words are stuck in his throat as he catches the way Gavin looks at the jacket.  
  
“Could bloody tell with all the nicks in it. There’s even a spot here where you tried to sew up a hole,” Gavin giggles, and it lets Ryan’s nervousness seep out. "Some darker spots where stuff didn't wash out all the way."  
  
“Yeah, it’s an old jacket of mine, and I hoped it’d be small enough to not look that weird on you. It was one of my first ones I bought since joining the crew, so it’s got history,” Ryan mumbles. “That’s partly why I wanted to give you this one to wear. That, and...it looks the nicest out of the rest. It's like my current one. Black leather, but with red accents instead of my blue.”  
  
“It’s kinda like complements, innit? I’m the red to your blue, and we make it work together. Good thing that red and blue look good together,” Gavin jokes.  
  
Ryan’s breath hitches, because Gavin’s hit the nail on the head even if Gavin doesn’t exactly realize it. He nods, and he offers a small smile as he presents the jacket to Gavin again; the meaning isn’t lost on either of them about this jacket. The question is asked in his movements, and Gavin responds in kind.  
  
There’s something to be said about the intimacy of the moment, as Ryan carefully slips the jacket onto Gavin’s shoulders. He watches with a held breath how Gavin slips his arms into the sleeves, knuckles barely past the long sleeves, and adjusts the new weight on his figure. Even swallowed up by the excess fabric, Gavin looks comfortably at home in Ryan’s jacket, and Ryan can’t help the affection that surges in his heart.  
  
“Y’know, I can see why you wear that jacket everywhere, even if you’re not on a bike. It _does_ make a statement,” Gavin teases.  
  
“You’re fucking awful,” is all Ryan can groan out before he’s attacked with an armful of Gavin. But he can’t stifle the smile on his face as Gavin tucks his head in the crook of his neck, nuzzling his cheek against the skin there and making joyful, little chirping noises.  
  
“And, you don’t have to worry. I know it’s not like a necklace, but I get what you’re saying,” Gavin smiles, small and soft with apple-red cheeks. He peers up at Ryan from his spot with shining eyes. “I like you a lot, Ry.”  
  
Ryan feels like a mess – all he can manage is a grateful nod as he tucks Gavin closer to his side; his body feels like fire.  


* * *

  
  
The perfect moment, in Ryan’s eyes, is when they’re the only ones left in the highway lane. Los Santos is good to them today as they ride out of the city, heading off to nowhere for a passing moment. It’s there that he can amp up the engine to go blasting off at a 90 miles per hour and to the tune of nowhere’s promises.  
  
He can still feel the rush from the speed, see his surroundings blur around him, and it’s easy to lose himself to the thrill of the ride. He lets experience and instincts take over the driving. For a good while, he can stop thinking about everything besides the moment and driving wildly in it. It's the best type of alone time he could get when the adrenaline got too much and the stress too heavy from their jobs.  
  
Now though, Ryan can feel the comforting press of Gavin’s body against his back. Warm and present, Ryan feels less reckless even at high speed; he's more content, especially when Gavin squeezes his arms around Ryan’s waist to hold on. The touch is grounding.  
  
He had planned on driving with no destination in mind. Take Gavin out on a ride to see everything and nothing that exists on the road. But then he thinks about another city near Los Santos, where the people are nicer and the streets are safer. Thinks about the famous coffee shop there, the overhyped tourist attractions, and the idea of exploring it together.  
  
He thinks Gavin would like it, and it's enough for him to take the next exit there.  
  
Ryan slips one hand off the handles for a moment, placing it over one of Gavin’s that’s on his stomach. His thumb brushes the exposed skin of that soft hand, and distantly, he amends his statement from before: _this_ is the perfect moment.  
  


 

 

**(three.)**

  
“How’s loverboy doing? You haven’t been on a date with your guy in what...a month now?”  
  
“You’ve been keeping track?”  
  
Geoff shrugs, not giving any answer as obvious as it is. “Hard not to when it turned routine for you to disappear near weekly. Hell, I don’t think I went on as many dates as you have, even with Jack.”  
  
Ryan scowls from his spot behind the refrigerator door, pausing in his search for one last can of diet coke. He throws up a middle finger at Geoff, and he can _feel_ the eye roll from the other.  
  
“He’s been out of the country for a job,” Ryan mumbles eventually when Geoff's stare doesn't drop. He avoids mentioning personal details about his date. He sighs and shuts the fridge door close when it looks like there’s no more of his drink left. Leaning against the door, he continues, “He said he shouldn’t away for more than that, said the filming went well. But…”  
  
“You miss him. Like a metric shit ton, dude,” Geoff finishes for Ryan. His expression’s taken on a more serious one, and Ryan is thankful for how understanding Geoff could be. “Is that why you’ve been on your phone a lot more? I see you always checking it now.”  
  
Ryan gives a helpless shrug, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Old and worn, threads stick out from the end, but it’s one comfort out of a situation that has Ryan feeling stilted. He hadn’t realized how much Gavin affected his life with those weekly dates, considering they spent most of their week away at their own work.  
  
It’s weird, being vulnerable like this.  
  
“He’s busy over there, but sometimes he’ll sneak a text in about his day. There’s usually a photo too, and I like them. It lets me know that he’s doing okay, since I can’t be there with him,” he confesses. Quiet and emotional, he wonders what a sight he must make in front of Geoff.  
  
“Damn. You’re really into the guy,” Geoff whistles. He’s figured out that Ryan genuinely likes the guy, but he had never paid attention to how much exactly. “Sounds like he’s real good for you.”  
  
Ryan’s eyes soften as he eyes the small bump in his pocket where he knows his phone is hiding away. He thinks about his wallpapers, how they’re photos of them together and how it changes weekly for every new date. Thinks about their texts that always end in a _‘see you soon’_ and never a _‘goodbye’_ . Thinks about how much he likes being next to Gavin, and how, sometimes, he can’t speak because he’s too overwhelmed with affection.  
  
There’s not enough words to describe how good Gavin is.  
  
He tears his eyes away from his phone – people say focusing on the wrong things can make time slower, and maybe there’s some truth to it – and looks back up at Geoff. Ryan tries to find something to say, even if it’d never capture the whole experience of being with Gavin.  
  
Before he can say a single word though, a familiar text tone rings in his ears, and as quick as he had looked away – he’s grabbing his phone to peer at the newest message.  
  
**from [dear]:**  
_got home just now. im knackered, but i wanna see you ry. come over and bring food please?_ _  
_  
**to [dear]:**  
_!!_  
  
And it’s genuinely amazing how Geoff stays upright after Ryan barrels through him and out the door. Geoff resigns himself to this fate of a lovestruck Ryan, ready to be by his date’s side at a drop of a hat.  
  
Love looks good on the guy, at least.  


* * *

  
  
“Christ, you’re too good for me sometimes, Ry.”  
  
Gavin groans in delight through another mouthful of food, savoring the rice and curry from the local Thai place near his apartment. He doesn’t eat much, but after complaining about the shitty airplane food, Ryan can only watch in understanding as Gavin rinses through the takeout.  
  
They’re sat on the actually nice couch in Gavin’s living room, Gavin sitting back against one of the arms with Ryan laying on Gavin’s chest. Broad arms wrap tightly around the other’s waist, and they relax to the background noise of a documentary.  
  
“I’m just a normal good, but relative to you, I can see that,” Ryan jokes with a grin and earning a half-hearted glare from Gavin. He doesn’t bat an eye, casually grabbing a tissue with one hand and wiping a stray morsel of food from the corner of Gavin’s lips. “I like it anyway. Also helps a guy out with his ego.”  
  
“This is one of those sometimes where you’re _not_ too good for me now. You suck,” Gavin huffs, but he doesn’t look too bothered. Otherwise, he’d be batting Ryan’s hand away and pouting up a storm. Instead, he lets Ryan fuss over him with the food and tissues; he must’ve seen how much Ryan had needed it.  
  
“Just finish your food, so we can cuddle, idiot,” Ryan can’t help saying fondly. He nuzzles his cheek against Gavin’s collarbone and squeezes him in a hug, letting out a soft and impatient noise.  
  
Something that vaguely sounds _‘we’re already cuddling’_ escapes from Gavin, but Ryan can’t find it in himself to deign that with a response. He shuts his eyes and savors the moment that it is – the low volume of the television, the scraping sounds of Gavin eating the dregs of his food, and the quiet breathing of theirs that stay in sync.  
  
Ryan’s always thought that nothing could come close to the love he has for the criminal life; this is coming pretty damn close.  
  
He stays like that for what seems like forever, already close to dozing off from the serenity of it all. He jolts from his half-slumber when he hears the loud _‘click!’_ of a camera, followed up by a sheepish _‘oops’_ from Gavin.  
  
“Why’re you taking photos of me right now, Gav…?” Ryan asks. His words slur together in his sleepiness, and his eyes are blurry when he attempts to peer up at Gavin through half-lidded eyes.  
  
Gavin offers a small smile, setting his empty plate down to instead run his hands through Ryan’s hair. His nails scratch at a sensitive spot _just right_ , and Ryan’s eyes flutter at the sensation.  
  
“You’re like a lil’ puppy, Ry. ‘S cute,” Gavin giggles. He peppers kisses on Ryan’s forehead and nose and wherever else he could reach with the criminal's face semi buried against his body. “And I like photos, that’s why I sent a lot to you on my trip! I was miffed that you didn’t return any, love. I wanted to see you!”  
  
Ryan mumbles incoherently, his cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t know you wanted photos of me. Wouldn’t have been exciting anyway, since it’d be weird taking photos of me committing crimes.”  
  
Gavin snorts, saying nothing for or against that point; that’ll be something to talk about more seriously later on, Ryan notes. As much as Gavin doesn’t care for the crimes that involves heisting, Ryan doesn’t know where Gavin stands on his _shadier_ aspects. It’d really be a terrible thing to discuss currently.  
  
“I just like anything that’ll remind me of you, Ryan, you dolt. You could’ve sent me a photo of you brushing, and I’d enjoy it,” Gavin teases. “So, now, I want a photo of us together! Say ‘cheese’, Ryebread!”  
  
Ryan’s given no time to argue or pose decently, so he settles for glancing at the phone in Gavin’s hand and gives a lazy smile. It should be enough to satiate Gavin, what with the look in his eyes, and Ryan’s proven right when Gavin croons in happiness.  
  
“Lemme see, Gav,” Ryan requests, butting his head against the other’s hand. His face is gently bat away, a hand patting his cheek absentmindedly.  
  
“Hol’ up, let me do this one thing, and...aha–! I have a new lockscreen,” Gavin says triumphantly. He clicks his phone shut before turning it to show Ryan. At another click, Ryan sees the photo in all its glory.  
  
Gavin takes up most of the photo, his arm outstretched to catch the both of them in the frame of the photo with the other still running through sleek, black hair. Ryan’s only present in the lower half of the frame where the camera’s caught his hands clutching onto Gavin tightly, and his face is half-hidden against his shirt. They both have an affectionate look in their eyes, glittering with joy at just being with each other.  
  
And it’s...nice. Ryan’ll even go as far as to say it looks _domestic_ of them, considering one of them is a well-known criminal, and the other is a civilian with enough moral flexibility to date a criminal. What a dream couple they make.  
  
Ryan buries his face against Gavin’s body again, murmuring, “Y’know, if someone ever sees these pictures, they’d think we’re boyfriends?” He tries to ignore the feeling of _want_ in his stomach.  
  
It sounds like a dumb thing to say when they’ve been going on dates for months now – a trend that doesn’t seem likely to disappear anytime soon – but Ryan’s hesitant. It’d be too assuming of him to believe that they’re past this courting stage, not when Ryan’s always heard that a question like that has to be asked first. He doesn’t want to ruin what they’ve built up already.  
  
“Huh? I mean...I’d hope so?” Gavin’s voice comes out confused, and peering up, Ryan can see the way Gavin's brows furrow deeply. Ryan thinks he's stopped breathing himself. “I haven’t been telling all my co-workers about my lovely dates only for them to assume we’re not something, at least. But I don’t want to cock it up, so it’s fine if...you don’t want to be something, it turns out.”  
  
_“No!”_  
  
The outburst is sudden, has Ryan sitting up from his spot now and looking down at a wide-eyed Gavin. He freezes in his spot as his cheeks turn pink, but he supposes that there’s nothing he can do to take back his answer now. It’s not a wrong answer, but it’s rarely that Ryan loses composure like so instantaneously and has him sounding like a child.  
  
He clears his throat, settling down again as he slowly reaches for Gavin’s hand. “I want to be your boyfriend. I like you a lot, Gav, and I don’t see myself without you for a long time,” he murmurs. He runs a thumb over bony knuckles, feels the soft skin of a person who’s never had to turn to crime to survive; Ryan wonders if his own hand feels rough and calloused.  
  
“I’m just not good at this. Or reading into social stuff.” He shrugs lamely. “I didn’t want to jump to conclusions and risk losing you. God, Gav, you’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me, and if you’d let me, I want to be your boyfriend,” he repeats.  
  
“Ry, you’re being too sappy now,” Gavin whines, but there’s a dopey grin on his face. His free hand rises to cup Ryan’s cheek, and Ryan shuts his eye as Gavin strokes his cheek so lovingly that Ryan questions why he hesitated in the first place.  
  
(His assumption would’ve been so damn right.)  
  
“That’s a yes, right? Otherwise, I’ll have to change your name in my phone from _‘dear’_ as soon as I can.”  
  
At that, Gavin just squeals, a happy smile lighting up the room as he peppers Ryan’s face in kisses; Ryan assumes this time, that Gavin’s answer is a resounding yes.  


 

 

**(four.)**

  
  
“You’ve been scaring the crew lately. I don’t know what kind of murder shit you pulled, but could it wait until after the heist?”  
  
Geoff catches Ryan all alone at the kitchen counter of the penthouse, startling the mercenary from whatever business he had been invested in on his computer.  
  
He takes a seat next to the confused guy, cradling two cans of diet coke in his hands before he hands one to Ryan. It’s accepted easily with a _crack!_ of the tab, and Geoff can only hope that it’ll satiate Ryan as they talk. The guy absolutely hates this kind of intervention, and Geoff needs his crew to not be afraid of Ryan.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything besides the jobs you’ve been assigning me,” Ryan answers after a long sip. “None of the jobs have been hits either. Just shake-ups or acting as an enforcer. I told you I stopped taking the bad jobs a long time ago."  
  
“Look, man, I’m not saying that exactly! It’s just...the crew’s acting weird ‘round you, and I wondered if something happened.” Geoff slumps in his seat as Ryan nods, almost demurely and sadly from previous words; Geoff hates how easily Ryan gets him to feel bad. “C’mon, buddy, I was just worried. I know that if shit gets stressful for you, it can get dangerous for you.”  
  
Ryan plays with the tab of his soda can, flicking it in thought as the ringing noises sound out. “I haven’t been that stressed that it’s getting bad for me. I’ve been pretty good honestly,” he shrugs. He pauses there. “The only thing that’s happened recently enough for the crew to get worried is that I have a boyfriend now, but–”  
  
“I’m sorry, repeat that?”  
  
“Huh? I have a boyfriend, but the crew doesn’t know I’ve even been on dates, so–”  
  
“Hold the fuck up, stay there, and do not fucking talk until I’m done, because still _what the fuck?_ ” Geoff’s voice turns shrill. “What do you mean you got a boyfriend?!”  
  
“Oh, yeah. The guy I’ve been going on dates with and I are official now.”  
  
“When?!”  
  
“Two weeks ago.”  
  
“And were you ever gonna fuckin’ tell me that detail?!”  
  
Ryan hesitates. He takes another sip of his drink instead, one that’s taking too long for it to be natural, and he looks almost sheepish. He’s hoping for the world to end or the floor to swallow him up right now – either would be an amazing escape right now from a glaring Geoff.  
  
Geoff groans loudly, transitioning to a yell of a wail, as he holds his head in his hands. “Ryan, man. You’re an idiot sometimes.”  
  
“That’s not very nice of you to say.”  
  
“Never said I was nice,” Geoff grumbles. He drags his hands down his face with a sigh, but above his fingers, he peers at Ryan with an odd look in his eyes.  
  
Geoff scrutinizes the man sitting next to him, words from before registering more completely. It’s true that Ryan’s come a long way from being the person he was years ago – cruel and malicious and not exactly _Ryan_ back then – but he’s changed even more lately. Ryan’s still a sarcastic asshole to the the crew who likes the rush from crime and power, but he’s also _softer_ now.  
  
Softer in the way that Ryan will gently smile whenever he hears that specific text tone; how Ryan has taken to thieving little knick knacks like jewelry that he never used to before; how he’s become so much more quaint around the penthouse, less likely to threaten the crew members; or how Geoff sometimes will overhear Ryan so reverently call his boyfriend _‘dear’_ over the phone.  
  
And really, he can’t help but let out a snort when he finally reads the page open on Ryan’s laptop: _“What to Do When You’re in Your First Relationship Ever.”_ _  
_  
“Hey, man,” Geoff starts, reaching out to pat Ryan on the back. He offers a toothy smile, and he looks more like a proud dad rather than a criminal in Los Santos in that moment. “Congratulations on the new relationship. The guy’s been real good to you.”  
  
Ryan nods eagerly, a smile splitting his own face.  
  
“Thanks, boss. He’s been amazing,” he murmurs. “I don’t know how I managed to live all my life without him in it. I like him a lot.”  
  
Geoff chuckles. He can’t help but see the familiar look in Ryan’s eyes, and he wonders when Ryan will realize that he loves the guy already. But that’s a matter for a different day – and a topic for a future betting pool – so Geoff shrugs. Shakes his head fondly at this mess of a human still figuring things out in romance.  
  
“I can tell, Ryan. Keep him close to you, you hear?” Geoff says. “We don’t always get lucky enough to get what you have in our lifetimes.”  


* * *

  
  
It’s another bank heist. Intended target: Maze Bank.  
  
Ryan listens to the chatter over his comm as he preps for his own role in the job. His hands check over his guns with a comfortable ease, and it helps settle down the energy he gets on these missions; ever since the crew, there's a new excitedness that always brews in his chest at heists.  
  
He peers over to the other person sitting next to him in the backseat, tattooed arms covered by the symbolic suit that’s left Los Santos in terror again and again. Just before a heist that he’s planned meticulously including all the ways it can go shit because of the crew’s destructive natures, this is his zone.  
  
“You ready to make a hell of a lot of money, boys?” Geoff knocks back the rest of his soda with a grin, eyes flickering over at Ryan. “We better get this right since money’s being loaded out tomorrow.”  
  
_“Are we playing usual rules for robbing them? I saw a few guards I wanna punch in the fuckin’ face before I rob ‘em.”_  
  
Geoff rolls his eyes. “If they try to stop you, go wild. Just no harm or death to innocent people who aren’t doing anything to you. Don’t forget your job though, Michael!”  
  
_“I’m not unprofessional! I’m not like Ryan when he sees a good kill.”_  
  
Ryan rolls his eyes, hand coming up to his comm to finally unmute himself. “I don’t appreciate being insulted like that. You decided to kill a mob of shitty people once ‘stead of heisting, and suddenly you’re unprofessional,” he grumbles. Low and near-threatening, it’s the Vagabond coming out to play, and it earns him a little _‘christ, whatever’_ from Michael. “Apology accepted,” he snorts.  
  
“Alright, calm down, you can bicker after the heist. We’ve got money to steal, and it’s waiting for us,” Geoff interrupts. He cracks his knuckles, and when his gaze sweeps over the gents in the car with him, he chuckles. “Everyone ready to go?”  
  
_“I’ve been fuckin’ ready! Jeremy and I rigged the vault, just let us know when to detonate.”_ _  
_  
“Jack, Ryan?”  
  
“We’re literally in the car with you, you can see us being ready,” Jack huffs. She slings an empty bag on her shoulder, and flicks the safety off on her gun. “If anything, you’re the last one we’re waiting on, Geoff.”  
  
Ryan nods, agreement bolstered by the click of his guns assembling together again. “Say the words, and we’ll go.”  
  
“You guys are the worst crew,” Geoff groans as he slings on his own bag, and he kicks his door open. “Alright, fuckers – _let’s heist!_ ”  


* * *

  
  
The heist goes as predicted – which is to say, unpredictable.  
  
Michael is whooping in Ryan’s ear as he leaves a trail of unconscious guards behind him, lying down among debris from the exploded vault at the start. Somewhere alongside him, the sound of skin hitting skin echoes on Jeremy’s side as well as his own rambunctious cheers. Jack and Geoff are just about done packing their bags with the cash after playing with it in the dumbest ways, like making it rain on them. There's bullets ricocheting somewhere below the bank lobby.  
  
Hell, Ryan had participated himself, firing off a few rounds into the overly expensive, marble flooring of the place. There’s a few more shots in the wall behind the counters when a teller almost was too brave. After that act, he’s had intimidation on lockdown without trouble.  
  
(Though he wonders if they’ll eventually notice that the bullets form a heart shape.)  
  
About 90% of it hadn’t been part of the plan – they’re supposed to have been in and out in less than 15 minutes – but the Fakes have never been good at just doing what they need to. What’s the point of being the strongest crew in the city if you don't have fun with it?  
  
_“Coming up, Vagabond! A guard managed to patch a call to LSPD through, ETA is five minutes!”_  
  
Ryan scoffs behind his mask, jacket flexing as he moves to get out another gun. It’s not like the LSPD is any good, and worse comes to worst, Ryan can wipe them out easily, as fucked as that sounds.  
  
He makes a show of it to the civilians in the lobby, how attuned he is with his weapons and the ease that he wields it. He even earns a whimper from someone when the safety goes off, and the gun is ready to fire with a _click!_ that echoes loudly. Ryan can’t stifle a laugh at that, and he sees how a chill runs through the room.  
  
“Fuck yeah, bastards! Guess who’s come out to play!”  
  
“Rimmy still is excitable as ever, huh,” Jack says with a snort, sprinting behind the two younger members with a loaded bag on her shoulder.  
  
Behind her, Geoff shakes his head fondly with a smirk and a matching full bag. “They’re gonna blow something up later, aren’t they?”  
  
“Better something else than us, Geoffrey.”  
  
Geoff shrugs to concede that point. He takes up the rear and signals for Ryan to open the door, watching as Michael and Jeremy are the first by a longshot to reach the outside.  
  
Ryan’s awareness heightens even more, now that it’s his part of the job to take care of the crew. He doesn’t see anyone moving to stop them, much less expect a guard to disable him or ruin the heist, but it never hurts. Sometimes, people are wiley creatures like that, and the Vagabond isn’t all-powerful.  
  
And besides, if it hadn't been for him paying more attention, Ryan would have missed a familiar figure in the bank.  
  
Gavin’s giving him an exasperated look for getting him stuck in another bank heist, but Ryan doesn’t miss the splash of red on tanned cheeks. It’s adorable on him, and when it’s just Geoff who hasn’t passed the door, he sneaks a wave over to Gavin. He’s giddy when Gavin returns it.  
  
He sneaks glances over at his boyfriend – _boyfriend!_ – with a lovestruck look on his face when he can; it’s exciting when he catches Gavin looking at him like that too. He hopes Gavin can see his expression beneath the mask.  
  
And when Geoff had finally left the bank, Ryan notices in time how Gavin is trying to catch his attention. Gavin silently crows in delight as he excitedly kisses his fingertips and blows it towards Ryan’s direction, and automatically, his hand comes up to catch it.  
  
Gavin is radiant as he grins in delight at Ryan’s catch.  
  
Distantly, Ryan can hear Geoff yelling at him to get a move on, and he will, but God – Ryan has it awfully bad for Gavin.

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanna yell at me or talk to me about freewood, catch me on [tumblr](https://seitjun.tumblr.com)and [twitter](https://twittr.com/seitjun)! please, i love these boys so much–


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